


Championed; or, The Catharsis of Pyrrha Nikos

by Liara_90



Category: RWBY
Genre: Blow Jobs, Character Study, Costumes, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Heterosexual Sex, Love, POV Third Person, Porn With Plot, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Roleplay, Smut and Character Study is Not a Tag, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-06
Updated: 2015-12-05
Packaged: 2018-05-05 04:20:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5361188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liara_90/pseuds/Liara_90
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pyrrha Nikos and Jaune Arc are (finally) in a relationship, but Pyrrha still has difficulty expressing her own desires, and Jaune wonders if they're actually there. So will having Pyrrha articulate and act out one of her sexual fantasies lead to a journey of discovery? Smut and character study.</p><p>(The smut is in Chapter 2, if you're that impatient)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pre-Game, or; Discoveries Made Whilst Sleeping Over in the RWBY Dorm Room on Account of Team Sloth "Date" Night

_♪ **Baby** , it's tiiiiiiime to make up your mind. _♪  
♪ _I think that tonight is when our stars aliiiiiiign._ ♪  
♪ _ **Honey** , it's time to leave the doubt behiiiiiiind. _♪  
♪ _Take my **hand** 'cause **you** and **I** are gonna♪_  
_**Fuck!** Oh, **fuck!** Don't you fucking_ dare _stop Lie Ren or so help me I wiiiiilllllll_

Pyrrha blinked, momentarily stupefied, as she realized that Nora's shouts of ecstasy had managed to drown out whatever the vocalist had been about to sing, despite the how loudly Yang's old boom box was already cranked. Nora's howls elicited a snicker from said blonde, whereas Ruby's scarlet blush offset Weiss' deathly pallor, Jaune awkwardly squirmed on his pillow and Blake just let out a world-weary sigh.

" _Yes, **yes, storm my castle, Ren! ******_" Nora's shouts echoed from one end of the Beacon dormitory to the other, easily drowning out both Yang's music and Ruby's video game. Weiss paled a little as she felt the reverberations vibrate through the floorboards, leaving her easy prey for Yang's shotgun-wielding supersoldier avatar.

Friday Night was Date Night, per Nora Valkyrie's dictates, which meant that from sundown to sunrise, Pyrrha Nikos (and anyone else who valued their mental - or physical - health) would be giving Nora and Ren as wide a berth as possible. Despite the inconveniences their, ah, _romantic evenings_ generated Pyrrha bore her teammates no ill-will, as she took it as yet another excuse to spend more time with the Man of Her Dreams. That being said - and while this thought sounded selfish and unbecoming even in the privacy of her own mind - Pyrrha couldn't help but wish that her own "Date Night" with Jaune didn't inevitably end as "Sleepover With Team RWBY Night", courtesy of one of Nora's socks wrapped 'round their doorknob.

She was not, of course, going to be voicing that thought anytime in the next few hours.

"Um… do you think you could turn up the volume a bit?" asked Ruby, glancing over her shoulder at Pyrrha as she tried to gently shake Weiss back to Remnant. The heiress violently shook her head and refocused her attention on the screen in front of her, an irate scowl on her face. Weiss was as dismissive of video games as she was of pretty much every leisure activity that cost less than a grand to partake in, but even this idiotically-colorful murder-simulator was better than… _listening._

Pyrrha nodded wordlessly to Ruby and tapped the Volume key until she could practically feel the old machine whining in protest, then returned to watching the vibrantly-colored game being played, the screen split four ways in a melee too hectic for her to properly follow. Yang and Ruby had forced her to play a few electronic games during earlier sleepovers, after having learned that she, like Weiss, apparently came from some eerie mirror universe where children didn't grow up playing video games. They'd relented only when it'd become clear that she had even less natural aptitude for games than Weiss, the champion's otherworldly physical prowess entirely failing to translate into the virtual realm.

"They're certainly…. very enthusiastic," said Pyrrha as she returned to her spot on Blake's bed, eager to break the awkward silence that for the last twenty minutes had been punctuated solely by the staccato of the game's gunfire and the percussion of its explosions. Blake raised an eyebrow at Pyrrha from behind _Ninjas of Love: High School Days_ , mildly bemused at the tournament champion's evident discomfort. Pyrrha's shared Ruby's inexperience and Weiss' sense of propriety, while being neither as intrepid nor as self-righteous as either girl, leaving her particularly sensitive to conspicuous displays of sexuality. Pyrrha felt her own relationship with Jaune Arc was more…well, what _was_ the right word? Deliberate? Prudent? Tentative? Like two hikers lost in the Forever Fall they had finally found one another, love forcing its way through all the walls and obstacles they'd arranged between their hearts. But whatever they had was still… _unsettled_.

Pyrrha sighed. Maybe the worry was natural. She knew it was wrong to compare her relationship with those of her classmates, even if she could never help it. Ren and Nora might have danced around the words for a decade but their love for one another had never been in doubt; theirs was a love so bright and constant you could navigate at sea by it. Weiss needed someone like Ruby to open up her heart (okay, that sounded cheesy even in her head, but it was _true_ ). Yang's _joie de vivre_ was healthily balanced by Blake's more contemplative view of the world. But Jaune and herself…

Pyrrha distracted herself from the treacherous thoughts by poking around Blake's bed, absent-mindedly surveying the faunus' stash of books. ' _I'm actually_ with _Jaune_ ,' Pyrrha insistently repeated to herself, ' _which is a lot more than I could've said a month ago._ ' Blake cocked an eyebrow as Pyrrha unthinkingly made her way to the more…adult… side of the faunus' collection, deciding that the flustered expression that would inevitably cross Pyrrha's face was worth the intrusion unto her privacy.

 _Hunting Eros: A Huntress' Guide to Sex and Love_ was admittedly _not_ what Blake had expected Pyrrha to curiously pick up, though her blush was none the less scarlet for her choice. While the rest of the dorm room tried to pretend that the world outside of their polygonal box canyon didn't exist, Blake watched with fascination as Pyrrha turned a page… and then another…. and another…

"Jaune you team-killing fucktard!" screamed Yang, causing the blonde boy to cower in terror as the Game Over screen flashed and Ruby and Weiss did their synchronized low-five thing.

The remarkably un-ladylike outburst broke Pyrrha's concentration, causing her head to snap upright, which brought her gaze immediately level with Blake's. An expression, equal parts embarrassment and sheepishness, played across Pyrrha's face, eliciting a wry grin from Blake as the Mistrali hurried to put down the book.

"I'm sorry!" she reflexively blurted out, looking at her hands like they'd only turned those pages due to demonic possession. "I swear I didn't mean to intrude on your privacy like that."

"Don't worry about it," replied Blake, a sideways glance confirming that nobody else had noticed Pyrrha's perusing. She repositioned herself so she was seated shoulder-to-shoulder with Pyrrha, allowing the two Huntresses to murmur conspiratorially. "That book is a…. well, _relationship guide_ is probably the official thing to call it," said Blake, her emphasis on 'official' a clear invitation.

"And… what is it _un_ officially?" asked Pyrrha, feeling nervous in the way she never did before a battle.

"It's a sex guide," replied Blake in a deadpan tone, watching the fiery blush color Pyrrha's face once more. "Well, that's selling it a little short. I'm not sure who wrote it or why, sadly, but it's clearly for Hunters and Huntresses. How to deal with stress, how to nurture trust, that kind of thing." Blake paused. "And it contains a few… exercises… to help partners strengthen their bonds."

The two Huntresses sat wordlessly beside one another for a long moment. Nora and Ren sounded like they were taking a break from lovemaking, though nobody was foolish enough (anymore) to dare returning to the JNPR Dorm before sunrise. The _click-clack_ of plastic controllers and virtual gunfire filled the room again, and Pyrrha felt a pair of golden eyes resting heavily upon her.

"May I…" the words practically caught in her throat, Pyrrha struggling to overcome a lifetime of unimpeachable propriety. She fidgeted and shuffled, The Invincible Girl dissolving before Blake's eyes, leaving behind only the very uncertain, very _real_ Pyrrha Nikos. "May I… possibly borrow this?" 

She pressed her lips together as soon as the words were said, as if she wanted to leave no evidence that she had spoken them at all. Blake, for her part, could have teased and taunted her, toyed with her like a cat with a mouse. But Blake knew all too well what it felt like to be vulnerable and uncertain, to wonder whether one's bedrock was adamantine or quicksand. So to her credit she said nothing, offering only one of the rare smiles she reserved for her closest friends. She slid the book back over to Pyrrha with a mischievous wink Yang would've been proud of.

"When you get to the section on roleplaying in the bedroom," Blake breathed, her voice like the soft rustling of silk, "let me know if you need any help brainstorming."

For the only time that evening Blake let herself truly relish Pyrrha's awkward fluster, watching with wry amusement as Pyrrha's mouth tried and failed to make words. With a mischievous grin she retreated to the pages of her smut, peaking only briefly to catch Pyrrha reopening the book with a mixture of trepidation and determination.

Blake turned a page, letting out a soft sigh as she did. If her teammates' histories were anything to go by, the shy, sexually meek Pyrrha Nikos probably wouldn't be with them for much longer.


	2. The Champion and the Cheerleader, or; Louder than Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catharsis  
>  _ca•thar•sis, kəˈTHärsəs/_  
>  noun  
> the process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions.

It was probably a sign that he was becoming dangerously jaded, but Jaune Arc was, to his own surprise, _not_ surprised by the appearance of a sex manual on his bed Monday night, with duplicates for Pyrrha, Ren and Nora to boot. _Yes_ , he probably should have been weirded out that sometime between leaving for breakfast Monday morning and returning from Dueling Practice in the evening, someone had apparently broken into their dorm and deposited a romance-sex-manual-thing written for a suspiciously narrow demographic. But - and this was worth repeating - this was _Beacon_. For lack of a better term stuff kinda just… _happened_. He'd long learned to take a page from Ren's book and just roll with it. Think about how weird things were and you were liable to drive yourself crazy mad.

What actually _did_ surprise him was the fact that Pyrrha was more than eager to go through the book with him, turning pages synchronously with him as they sat side-by-side one another on his bed. Some part of his subconscious was aware that her copy was suspiciously more worn and dog-eared than everyone else's, though he could never quite articulate the sense of strangeness. The first chapter of the book was basically a collection of those 'how-well-do-you-know-your-partner' type games: quizzes on favorite colors and childhood dreams and first dates. Towards of the end of the chapter the questions started getting a little more…. _intimate_. Where you liked or disliked being touched, what kind of outfits you found surprisingly sexy, what kind of food you'd like to eat off of someone else. They giggled and blushed through it all, learning how to trust the other just a little more with each game. There had been a fair share of raised eyebrows and coy glances, but Pyrrha could practically feel the way they were opening up to one another. Like the time she'd unlocked Jaune's Aura in the Emerald Forest only… better, somehow.

Which was not to say that Jaune Arc was entirely sure of himself by the time they got to the 'roleplaying exercises' bit. 

_Exercise 2-5: Write down a scenario you would like you and your partner to roleplay. Describe the role each participant should assume, how they should behave, and how the scenario should unfold. Though be careful to leave room for creativity and spontaneity. Then exchange letters with your partner._

That was…. a little bit more than admitting that he had a thing for girls in knee-high boots, or learning _exactly_ where on his body Pyrrha would like to lick ice cream off from (where _not_ turned out to be a quicker approach). He trusted her, probably more than anyone else in Remnant, but still he was nervous. Or maybe he had things backwards, maybe it was _because_ he was getting so close to Pyrrha that he was now all the more worried about scaring her away. Back when Weiss had been his _objet d'amour_ he'd spared barely a second thought for how his words or actions would make Pyrrha feel. But that was then, and Pyrrha was… now. He'd been an idiot for asking too little from Pyrrha to begin with, but he didn't want to compound that by making the opposite mistake.

Pen in hand, and after careful deliberation, Jaune began inking his desires. Like most teenage males he had a healthy imagination when it came to sexual fantasies, characters and scenarios and activities he dared dwell on only when he was alone in the dorm room or in the solitude of a warm shower. He knew, somehow, that Pyrrha would probably do pretty much anything for him. Any fetish or kink he wanted indulged, he knew she'd sacrifice her own pleasure for his sake. Hell, she'd once worn her hair in an off-centered ponytail for a week before he realized why (and insisted she stop). That kind of power, he was (now) wise enough to know, was dangerous.

The fantasy he settled on was no less real than any of the other ones in his imagination, though it was perhaps one of the less exotic ones. But that, he concluded, depositing the letter in an envelope and licking the glue, wasn't really a problem. Future Jaune could introduce Pyrrha to _X-Ray and Vav_ -themed kinky Cops and Robbers; Present Jaune had Pyrrha Nikos' idea of Roleplay Night to… experience.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

SATURDAY  
10:36 PM

Jaune was panting in exhaustion, and Pyrrha hadn't even touched him yet.

In Jaune's defense, that was part of the scenario. Specifically, the scenario Pyrrha had spent literally hours agonizing over, drafting and editing and scrapping entirely like some self-loathing author. It was a small mercy that Jaune was unaware of how Pyrrha had finally broken down and managed to halting beg Blake for some 'creative advice', as that was the kind of knowledge that could fear in a man's heart. Specifically his.

But whatever her fantasy was, he wished it didn't presuppose him being drenched to the bone in his own sweat.

Jaune had spent the past thirty minutes sparring an array of training robots, hitting and being hit in turn until he was on the edge of exhaustion. Normally the training room was off-limits to students after hours, though apparently Pyrrha was on Glynda Goodwitch's very select list of students entrusted with a set of keys should the need for late-night training arise. And if any of _those_ other students should wander by, well, a trick of Pyrrha's Semblance ensured that the door would _stay_ locked, keys be damned.

An electronic chime indicated that he'd completed his second fifteen-minute sparring session, and Jaune half-limped to the sidelines, drinking greedily from a water bottle while the training robots moved themselves back to storage. His arms were sore, his breathing labored, and Crocea Mors seemed to have quintupled in weight since this morning. He could have been forgiven for forgetting that he was acting out a sexual fantasy at the moment.

Forgiven, that was, until he stumbled his way back into the lockeroom to change. Because that was the point when it became Pretty Fucking Obvious that this was _not_ a typical training session.

" _Jaune, Jaune, he's our man! If he can't do it no one can_!"

Jaune blinked, dazzled and dumbstruck, as he tried to take in the sight before him….

" _J-A-U-N-E, the best team leader for you and me!_ "

…It was a little unusual, because if you tilted your head and squinted a little it almost looked like…

" _He's the man who gonna' light my spark! Our team captain, the heroic Jaune Arc!_ "

…Pyrrha Nikos wearing a cheerleader uniform…

"Go…..,"began Pyrrha, rustling a pair of pom-poms in front of her, "Jaune!" she concluded, throwing her arms over her head with probably the biggest, silliest grin on her face he'd ever seen.

" _Dust_ , Pyrrha, you're…" Pyrrha beamed wordlessly at him as the gears in his brain clicked, ever-so-slowly, until, "you're beautiful…"

Pyrrha tried not to blush at the words. _She_ , after all, was supposed to be the one seducing _him_. It wasn't exactly like Pyrrha had a lot of experience in that field, though Blake had confided in her that the cheerleader uniform was apparently something of a 'cheat code'. It was a one-piece, tight-fitting dress that stopped _well_ north of her knee and left everything below her shoulders bare. It was probably a size too small for her, though again that was apparently a source of appeal. A large bow rested atop her head, fastening her hair into a stringent ponytail, and she'd borrowed some of Nora's makeup (and… knowledge) to get _just_ the right shade of lipstick. Pyrrha Nikos, it went without saying, had never _actually_ been a cheerleader.

"You did it again, Jaune," said Pyrrha, layering as much warmth and pride into her voice as she could. And truth be told, it wasn't hard to muster. "Your leadership saved the day once more." Images of that day at the Vale Town Square flashed through her mind as she crossed the distance between them in a few long strides, each step demonstrating just _how_ lithe those legs were. "Because of you, we won." Another memory, this time of the first round of the Vytal Festival Tournament. She reached out and pressed her hand against his chest, a twitch of her Polarity stripping off the outer plates of his armor.

Rather than his typical Huntsman's armor Jaune was wearing a training outfit, reminiscent of the kind he'd used in school prior to transferring to Beacon. There, Jaune had been part of the Swordsmanship & Dueling Club, which was basically a fancy kendo club for aspiring Hunters. By the skin of his teeth Jaune had made the forth of four spots on his school's varsity team, and had even made it through a few tournaments, even if he had always been the weakest link. The sizes of all the plates of armor were exaggerated, to make it easy for judges to score blows during matches, and the outfit flooded Jaune with uncomfortable memories of being walloped with a bamboo sword. Memories which, admittedly, faded the moment Pyrrha slid her hand against him.

"Well… I, uh… couldn't let the team down, could I?" offered Jaune, as Pyrrha gently but firmly pressed him against one of the lockers. "And how could I, what with you cheering me on, and everything." Pyrrha smiled at this, repositioning herself so her hands rested on Jaune's hips. He encircled her waist a moment later, as if belatedly remembering a cue. "I couldn't have done it without your support," he said, remembering fragments of the script she'd appended to her fantasy guide.

"I don't think that's _entirely_ true," said Pyrrha, an uncharacteristically coy smile forming on her face. One of her hands began drifting down, and suddenly Jaune no longer felt so tired. "I'm sure you would have succeeded without me….but I like to think I gave you a helping hand."

Jaune practically whimpered as Pyrrha's palm played across his shaft, her strokes slow but deliberate, the friction already driving him mad. She pressed herself closer against him, taking in a deep breath of his scent, her payoff for his practice. Maybe it was an unhealthy side-effect of a lifetime spent in gyms, but Pyrrha Nikos actually liked the smell of sweat. As in, _like_ liked it. It was strength and dedication, it was _passion_ given form. She liked it even more on Jaune. The way he had smelled after their first sparring sessions, exhausted to the bone but still wanting to improve. It only got better after he became Her Man, and she learned to associate his sweat with activities other than training.

Neither Jaune nor Pyrrha were particularly artful kissers, though it was one of those serendipitous mercies that neither was experienced enough to realize it. Their makeout sessions tended to involve simply riding the waves of hormonal passion, bouncing from charge to electrifying charge with each press of lips, each brush of skin. Jaune didn't know what to do with his tongue, and Pyrrha had an ingrained fear of unintentionally biting something.

Neither, of course, cared to notice their partner's shortcomings.

Pyrrha managed to refocus her attention away from Jaune's jaw line long enough to fiddle with the belt of his pants, hurrying to separate man from garment. After a half-minute's awkward fumbling Pyrrha managed to get Jaune out of his pants and shoes, while Jaune quickly removed his shirt, leaving him bare-chested. Jaune wasn't exactly _ripped_ , but he was more muscled than one would guess at first glance, months of personal training under a repeated tournament champion having added mass to his biceps and tone to his abs.

Pyrrha like his pectorals the most, for reasons she would never know.

"Now I want you to know," began Pyrrha, as she slipped a hand beneath the elastic band of his boxers and began stroking his erection directly, "that this isn't something I do for just _anyone_ who catches my eye." And that was true, even if Pyrrha normally had difficulty articulating the sentiment. "I don't go for losers," she concluded with a mischievous smile. And she knew that Jaune Arc, whatever anyone else thought, was no loser.

Pyrrha dropped to her knees before Jaune, pumping him with her hand several times while she settled into a comfortable position. This was something she knew she was inexperienced with, and like any good challenge she needed to be in the right headspace for it. Their lovemaking so far had been remarkably conventional - a handjob was the peak of their deviation from vanilla. Both were hesitant to ask for more, worried that they would demand too much in too short a time. On some level Jaune was terrified of becoming the kind of jerk he was all-too-familiar with, the douche who took having a girlfriend for granted and used her as little more than a sex toy. Pyrrha, for her part, was going against a lifetime of self-repression, practically petrified of giving in to her own baser desires. She hadn't dominated the tournament circuit for so many years because she gave in to what felt good.

' _How hard can this be?_ ' though Pyrrha as she brought herself eye-level with his member, oblivious to her own double-entendre. He was, unsurprisingly, already fully erect, practically quivering in anticipation of her touch. She knew Jaune was self-conscious about its size, having repeatedly insisted that it was 'how you use it' that counted, though Pyrrha herself had found nothing to complain about, blissfully ignorant of the world of male bravado. With almost paralyzing caution she moved her lips to his head, pressing softly against his flesh before parting to bring him into her mouth.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

"Now whatever you do," said Yang, as she began shampooing her hair for the second time, "do _not_ think about how you've got a mouthful of his super-sensitive skin right next to your teeth."

"Um, right," agreed Pyrrha, wishing for the umpteenth time that Yang didn't feel the need to have these 'girl-talk' sessions while in the showers behind the sparring rooms. Why Beacon couldn't spring for privacy dividers was beyond her.

"I mean, _man_ , imagine what would happen if you, like, _sneezed_ at the wrong moment," continued the blond, her expression a pantomime of horror.

"I'd rather not," murmured Pyrrha, though she proceeded to begin visualizing the trip to the ER in _frightening detail_.

"But I mean, if Jaune knows how to use his Aura for passive damage protection he should be fine."

"Yes…. _If_."

"And I mean, hey, you're Pyrrha _freaking_ Nikos. You know what you're doing. Just think of it as sparring practice. As long as you're careful everyone goes home happy."

"Yes……"

 _The shattered Moon looms large overhead. An eight-year old Pyrrha Nikos stands in a loose-fitting gi, tears streaming down her cheeks, knuckles drenched in blood. She watches in horror as her sempai is carried away by paramedics on a stretcher, the teenager's face fractured in Dust knows how many places. She's sobbing, trying to explain to her sensei that it was an_ accident _, that she just lost herself in the fight. He's too busy talking with the police to notice her at first. When he does finally looks her way, she sees the fear in his eyes._

Yang finished her shower and walked away to towel off, glancing over her shoulder at Pyrrha Nikos, who was staring dumbly into the porcelain wall in front of her. Blake caught up with her a moment later, having wrapped her hair up in a towel to conceal her ears.

"That was mean," chided Blake with a scowl, as she begins ruffling around in her locker.

"Yeah," Yang conceded, "but it was funny."

To that, Blake Belladonna had no rebuttal.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

The taste was a little different than the rest of his skin, presumably courtesy of the pre-cum. It was also warmer and firmer than she'd anticipated. She still moved with the utmost caution, trying to do as much with just her tongue as humanely possible. Not that it was taking a lot of effort to bring Jaune to the edge.

Jaune Arc was, at the, moment _far_ too distracted to fully appreciate that this was his first blowjob. He couldn't put words to just how amazing the sensation of Pyrrha's mouth felt around his dick, what it felt like to have her lips and her tongue press against his shaft. His hands unthinkingly came to rest on Pyrrha's ponytailed head, fingers pressing gently against her scalp as she bobbed back and forth in a slow, comfortable rhythm. He glanced down to look at her, though from his vantage her face was largely obscured, her attention focused solely on his member, mouth and hands working his shaft in passionate unison.

"Pyrrha…" he managed to groan out, before intelligent speech deserted him. Pyrrha looked up as he called out her name, her brilliant green eyes gleaming with pride at his evident ecstasy. She was so beautiful, so selfless in her love, so eager to make him feel happy. She was his bedrock, his champion and his cheerleader.

More by fluke than intent Pyrrha pushed herself further down Jaune's length than she had before, the delicate sensation sending him over the edge in a climax that had taken little coaxing. Pyrrha's hands kept stroking a moment longer than necessary, and he was still in her mouth when he came, spurting over her tongue. His action (or perhaps her _in_ action) decisively resolved the debate she'd been having over what to do when he released. Should she let him come on her chest… her face? Should she swallow? Could she? At the end of the day Pyrrha really had no idea how these things went, who was expected to do what, for whom, when. This was a question even a confidante as trusted as Blake Belladonna could not be asked.

Pyrrha coughed ever-so-slightly as she swallowed the bulk of his output, wiping her lips on the back of her forearm as she did. In abstract, the taste wasn't particularly pleasant. In context…well… the taste was different if it was associated with Jaune's orgasm. Even if he was easy to satisfy Pyrrha still felt a flutter of pride in her chest each time it was _her_ that made him cum.

It took Jaune the better part of a minute to regain his senses, to be able to concentrate on anything other than the pleasurable throbbing of his member. A powerful sense of release coursed through his body and he almost stumbled, his knees buckling slightly as he felt coils of tension leave him.

" _That_ is how we treat champions around here," said Pyrrha with a grin as she rose to her feet, the only one of the two who had remembered that they were at least nominally roleplaying. "Keep winning and you might even get a second round." Pyrrha spoke with as much coyness as she could muster, not that there was any weight behind her words. Like she could _ever_ play hard-to-get with Jaune.

"Remind me to work on my cardio, then," said Jaune, moaning in equal parts pleasure and exhaustion as Pyrrha guided him to a long, backless bench in the middle of the locker room. Pyrrha let out a giggle despite herself.

Jaune moved to kiss her but was surprised when he felt a hand pressed against his chest, keeping him at bay. He cocked his head to the side as Pyrrha gestured sheepishly to her lips, and a second later Jaune picked up on the traces of his own murky fluid around Pyrrha's mouth

"Oh, Pyrrha, shoot, I didn't mean to…" he flailed about for words until Pyrrha silence him with a smile, striding a short distance to a nearby sink, which she spun on and quickly ducked her mouth under. "You don't have to… I didn't want to presume…"

"Please, Jaune," said Pyrrha softly, as she spun the tap closed. "I didn't mind at all." She wrapped herself around him and kissed him squarely, _forcefully_ on the lips. "If you like…" a finger traced his bare sternum, "…we can even try it again sometime."

"That… that'd be great," said Jaune, momentarily losing his train of thought. "But I mean - what I'm trying to say - you don't… havetoalwaystakeitinyourmouth." The words sounded so awkward that the last sentence came out as practically a stammered whisper, though Pyrrha caught the gist. "That's… I mean, that can be pretty special, you know, if you want."

"Maybe you deserve it, Jaune," said Pyrrha, some part of her subconscious wishing she still had her celebratory pom-poms to rustle. "You're our _champion_ , after all." She flashed him a small smile, the private type she kept for when there were no cameras about demanding she look absurdly photogenic.

"Come on, Pyrrha, that's just your game," said Jaune, an all-too-familiar note of dejection creeping into his voice. "You don't always have to pretend that I'm some special prize or something."

Instead of ignoring the comment, instead of letting it slide like she too often did, Pyrrha planted one hand firmly on Jaune's chest and pushed him up against the wall of lockers, the cold metal again his skin sending shivers down Jaune's spine.

"I didn't make anything up, Jaune," murmured Pyrrha, her tone surprisingly aggressive. "I want you to be _mine_ , Jaune Arc." She was pressed against him now, the thin cloth of her cheerleader uniform rubbing against his bare skin. He could tell she was building up to something, trying to put the finishing touches on a speech she'd half-rehearsed a thousand times in her head. "It's not…. easy for me to say these things…"

And that much was true. So many sponsorships depended on her being a paragon of virtue, of remaining chaste and uncontaminated by such a dirty need as _lust_. Anything that could sully her image, diminish her name… she had learned to suppress, to ignore, to forget. Now…. now she was learning to use her voice.

"Jaune, I want to _do_ everything with you. I want to _feel_ everything with you." She reached down and found his member, already hardening again. "Yes, I want... _this_ , Jaune. I… I want to be fucked, and I want to fellate you, and I…" she grasped for words so alien to her, "I want to do _everything_ Jaune. Whatever makes _you_ happy, whatever makes _me_ happy." She paused, struggling to collect her thoughts. "I'm… not sure if you believe that I can _want_ you in the same way you want me. That I might like _sex_ just as much as you do. I love you because you never treated me like something I'm not. I'm not humoring you, Jaune. I'm not doing this out of pity. I'm doing this because when I look at you," her fingers found his jaw and forced it up, locking their gazes, "I see my champion. And I **want** that, Jaune Arc."

Jaune, in one of his rare flashes of brilliance, realized that this was _not_ the time for words. Even something like 'I love you, Pyrrha', or some other phrase that normally would've reduced the Champion to a blushing maiden. So he didn't try to sweet-talk his way out of Pyrrha's irritation, to come up with some witty one-liner or suave _bon mot_ to escape. No, some part of Jaune Arc's brain realized, now was the time for actions to speak louder than words.

And, for perhaps the only time in his life, grabbing two handfuls of ass and mashing his lips against hers was _exactly_ the solution to his problems.

The spontaneity of his passion caught the veteran duelist off-guard, causing her to clutch Jaune in surprise. A powerful thrill shot up her spine as she felt Jaune's hands beneath her uniform's skirt, repositioning themselves slightly until he hoisted her up into the air, lifting her back to the bench and collapsing onto it with such force that only their Auras prevented serious bruising.

"Dammit, Pyrrha," moaned Jaune, as he managed to pry herself away from her face for a few moments. "You know you're never sexier than when you're hunting something."

"Enough with the sweet talk, lover-boy," replied Pyrrha with a grin. She was flat on her back and he was right atop her, between her legs, sweaty and increasingly desperate.

Off the top of Pyrrha's head, she could think of no other place she'd rather be.

Their makeout escalated over the course of several minutes, hands groping and pelvises grinding with increasing need. As much as Pyrrha's imagined scenario had been structured around her playing the coquettish seductress - a scenario where the remained in control, calling the shots, dictating the pace - there was something to be said for getting lost in the heat of passionate. For kisses that left marks and gropes that left bruises. For the feel of labored breath on your skin, for the touch of fingers tugging at the brightly-colored underwear beneath your dress. For barely remembering you should probably still use a condom, just to be safe.

Pyrrha managed to push Jaune off of her - and the fact that she actually had to put some muscle behind moving him around was a surprising turn-on - separating long enough to retrieve a handful of foiled squares, eagerly tearing one open to pull out the fruity-flavored patch of latex within. Some distant part of her mind regretted never having had the nerve to practice putting one on using just her teeth, but the old-fashioned way worked just as well and with fewer opportunities for embarrassment.

Jaune grunted with impatience as Pyrrha unrolled the condom down his dick, losing the last bastions of his self-control as she grinned playfully once he was properly attired. She moved to begin slipping out of the cheerleader dress but he didn’t give her time, pushing her back down onto the bench and sliding between her legs with as much speed as he could muster. He slowed only just enough to ensure accurate positioning, before pushing inwards with none of his usual tentativeness.

They usually ended up in the cowgirl position, if only because Pyrrha found that it made things a lot easier when she could do most of the complicated work. When more conventionally positioned Jaune normally moved with such deliberation that it could almost be considered teasing, were Pyrrha not far past the mood for being teased. They both knew he worried - both about his own performance and of Pyrrha's pleasure - and his hesitation had a tendency to subdue their passions.

Now that he finally got the feeling of Pyrrha's _need_ … there was significantly less deliberation.

His first thrusts caused Pyrrha to let out a short cry of surprise, the sensation so much more powerful than she'd grown accustomed to. With another man she would've asked to stop, or at the very least to slow down, but this case different. This, she knew, was her succeeding in driving Jaune Arc to feel the same barely-constrained desire she felt. And it felt _good_ , even if it was a little rougher than normal. Or perhaps, _because_ it was a little rougher than normal.

Pyrrha managed to wrap her arms around his neck as he thrust inside her, feeling the muscled contours of his body exert themselves with every push. His sweaty scent was so different now, the same but still brand new, and she could feel their bodies glistening in ecstatic perspiration. Her whole body felt every gyration of his hips, every contortion of his muscles, like she was riding him, or being ridden. Their pleasured moans were an orchestra in her ears, their shouts a chamber-filling crescendo.

She wasn't quite sure who came first, probably because the sensory overload of her orgasm blinded her to the world for the better part of a minute. She clutched at Jaune with all her strength as the reverberations rocked her body, muscle and bone alike, before strength left her body entirely. Jaune collapsed atop her a moment later, his body a comfortable weight on hers as she unconsciously intertwined their limbs. She could hear her heart pounding in her chest, a distant ringing in her ears as if she had just stepped out of a nightclub for the first time in hours.

"So how was that, Champion?" Pyrrha eventually asked, managing to slide herself so she was propped up on her elbows. Jaune was still a limp mass of limbs sprawled all around her.

He snorted a little as she giggled at her own horrible acting, as if this was in any way part of a script Pyrrha Nikos could have dreamed up, even with Ms. Belladonna's editorial guidance. Jaune managed to pull himself up a moment later, and they exchanged soft kisses, the _decrescendo_ to their performance. Pyrrha couldn't help notice the surprise in Jaune's own eyes, the strangeness of his passionate seeping into him.

"So… it's clear that I want you, right, Jaune?" asked Pyrrha, dropping the pretense of her character entirely.

"It is," murmured Jaune, detaching from her so as to lock eyes with her. "The great Pyrrha Nikos is as horny as everyone else here."

Pyrrha blushed furiously at that, though she couldn't suppress her grin entirely. Yes, there was something _fun_ about lust and love, of being a girl ready for another roll in the hay, a side of her she kept sequestered away but that she was pretty sure she liked. She rewarded him with a few more playful kisses, losing herself in the light-heartedness of it all.

"Hey, Pyrrha, before I forget," said Jaune, his voice regaining its usual inflection as the hormones finished running their course, "where did you get a cheerleader uniform from, anyway?"

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

It was probably a sign that she was becoming dangerously jaded, but Blake Belladonna was, to her own surprise, _not_ surprised by the fact that she reentered her dorm room to find it looking like a tornado had just blown through, clothes and bed sheets and Achieve Men memorabilia dispersed as if by explosion. Blake settled onto her bed and returned to the pages of _Ninjas of Love_ , and her raging mental debate over how polyamorous a relationship her headcanon could sustain.

"Blake," said Yang, emerging from the closet in a frenzied state, eyes afire. " _Blake_! Blakeblakeblakeblakeblake!"

"Yes?" asked Blake, subtly arranging her legs so as to be able to spring in any direction should Yang make a frenzied lunge for her.

"Have you seen it? My cheerleader uniform? The Signal Academy Sunflowyr Dragons! It was _riiiight_ ," Yang's arms flailed comically about, "here!" She said, pointing to nowhere in particular, to Blake's bemusement.

Once upon a time, Blake might have been surprised to have learned that Yang was a cheerleader. Weiss could've been a cheerleader, sure, Ruby plausibly could have been, Nora maaaaaybe. She would've guessed Yang was the type who couldn't be content on the sidelines, who had to be in the game, on the field. Then she'd gradually come to the realization that Yang did pretty much whatever the fuck Yang felt like at any given moment. Including spending one uncanny semester becoming _frighteningly_ engrossed in the world of competitive cheerleading.

"I leant it to Pyrrha," Blake answered nonchalantly, returning to her book. "Said she needed it for something with Jaune." She turned a page, waiting for the beat to drop.

"Oh," said Yang, dumbly, suddenly aware of the Category 5 mess she'd made of their room. Their was no way in hell they'd get it shipshape before Weiss' returned and hell would be paid. Then another tooth of the gear clicked in the mind of Yang Xiao Long, and a devilish smile played across her face. "Ooooooooh."

"Indeed," replied Blake dryly, not needing words to know what her partner was thinking.

"Miss Belladonna," said Yang, pouncing on Blake's bed with a glint in her eye. "I do believe things just got interesting."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FEEDBACK ENCOURAGED! Comment please. Please? (If anyone's read anything else I've written I'm really curious to know if you feel these stories are technically/emotionally/thematically improving or not)
> 
> The Part Where the Author Rambles, Because This Was To Much Exposition To Dump in Even One of My Fics: So my first proper Arkos smut fic. Your take on my take on the characters would as always be greatly appreciated. I'm on a Pyrrha bend right now, as she's making a play for Best Girl. I need to avoid getting rusty at psychoanalysis via smut.
> 
> So as a whole Arkos is a little…. problematic. Not a rare opinion in this fandom, I know, but I still wanted to write Pyrrha, and let's be honest, it takes a lot of legwork to ship Pyrrha with anyone else. And while I think the whole 'I like a guy who just sees me for who I am' trope is a tad cheesy, I don't think there's anything fundamentally implausible about a Jaune/Pyrrha ship in the same way as, say, Baked Alaska or Falling Petals. What makes things a little more awkward is the whole 'average guy is insensitive to girl who could do waaaay better than him' bit. I actually don't think Jaune's a horrible asshole to Pyrrha in what we've seen on RWBY so far, but I'm more concerned about Pyrrha basically being dangerously emotionally invested in someone who is unlikely to reciprocate. I guess?
> 
> My interpretation of Pyrrha here is that she has a very strong instinct for self-denial, something akin to hyper-perfectionism that doesn't let her acknowledge her own needs. I feel it kind of explains both her success as a Huntress and her inability to buck up and make a proper move on Jaune, or at least, demand resolution. Once they're actually in a relationship, though, I imagine Pyrrha, (like Ruby), to instinctively downplay her own needs and desires, to the point where Jaune would begin to wonder whether she actually has them.
> 
> Or maybe this is all my residual psychodrama being projected onto RWBY characters. Who knows? Anyways, any take on my interpretation, the actions, drama, dynamics, etc., would be greatly appreciated. I don't write hetero often, so how's the smut? Realistic or fantasy? Ideas for the future?
> 
> Thanks again!
> 
> PS: For once in my life I am actually so lousy with title ideas for things I have to pull the "Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus" trick like three times. Sigh.


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